No Church In The Wild
by RomyRomRomz
Summary: As the survivors settle in at the prison, not only do they suspect something's up, but find more danger within the walls than outside of them... Daryl/OFC plus a few other surprises!
1. Chapter 1

_World gone to shit. Might as well quit._

The words mulled over in his head again and again. Quitting wasn't an option; it was opting for the easy way out. As he watched the group sleep, Daryl realised that despite the best efforts of Rick with the group, maybe his little speech was needed. This wasn't a democracy anymore. People treated him like shit, and no-one wanted to step up to his mark and take over; Daryl least of all. Rick sat up slowly, grabbing his forehead as if he had taken a bullet.

"You alrigh' man?" Daryl said, flicking his knife over the thin piece of wood which was now shaping to be an arrow. The sun was lighting the sky a luminous blue. Rick looked at Daryl who looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. Hell, he hadn't.

"How long have I been out?" Rick took his palm away from his head and looked up above him to see the dawn sky.

"Couple hours, not long."

Rick nodded, his eyes trailing over the sleeping bodies to Lori and Carl who were as far away as possible from him. He sighed heavily. Daryl watched him; how his eyes told more than any words could.

"You think they're scared?" Rick asked as he stood up, making his way over to Daryl. The two men shared a glance.

"They've always been scared Rick," Daryl paused, placing the new arrow down among the others he had crafted that night. "'Cept now, they're scared of you."

"We can't stay here. We need to make a move as soon as it's light enough to see the roads." Rick stood and began gathering up his things. Daryl nodded and placed the arrows into a leather quiver he had made back at the farm. He swung the arrows over his shoulder and watched as Rick stood atop the old stone structure. Who knows what was going on in the guy's head; killing his best friend, carrying the secret of Jenner and the fact everyone is infected, not knowing whether he was the father of Lori's unborn child. No wonder he was starting to lose it.

The rest of the group slowly began to wake. Carol sat bolt upright and shivered violently. Daryl looked her over twice, deciding to leave her be. She was having nightmares about Sophia; mumbling her name every other minute as she slept. The woman had been through hell yet was powering on now more than ever. Good on her, she needed to learn to stand on her own two feet though; Daryl wasn't always gonna be there for her. His thoughts moved to Andrea. He wanted to go back, see if she made it. Damnit. He shoulda gone back yesterday, she might still be alive. As he stood, rocks grinding beneath his feet he whistled loudly. All eyes were on the 'henchman'.

"Hey listen up! Rick says we're moving out today, anyone gotta problem with that?" The group looked at Daryl, then at Rick standing stiffly on top of the rubble. They all turned and began gathering their things, ready to head back to the cars. None of them had the guts to say anything to Rick's face. Carol said she wanted a man of honor to lead. _Then why the hell is she looking at me... _Daryl thought.

The sun was high enough now to make a move. As the last of the belongings were thrown into the cars, Daryl waited by Rick to see what the plan of action was.

"We head north, there's a prison not too far from here, few miles or so. Can look for supplies and see how secure it is."

"Mm-hmm." Daryl said in agreement. Herschel looked at them both then at the women sat in the cars.

"We need to teach them how to defend themselves and your boy Rick." Rick looked at him, eyes fierce. He nodded.

"You're right, but first we need to be somewhere safe, somewhere where they can learn to shoot without being attacked."

"Prison's best bet then." Daryl said, looking between the two men.

"Alright then, let's move." Rick poured the gas Maggie and Glenn had found at first light into the red people carrier. The rest of the vehicles would be alright for now. Rick gently placed a hand on Daryl's shoulder, he turned his head. "I need you to scout ahead, okay?" Daryl nodded.

"No problem, take Carol with ya then." Rick nodded and the two shook hands before going their separate ways. Carol watched Daryl's face as he walked towards the chopper; he looked withdrawn, yet he still seemed perfectly content talking to Rick. Was he the only one not terrified of the man whom they've looked to as a leader for so long? "You're riding with Lori and T-Dog." Carol frowned, her grey, blue eyes clouding with worry.

"Wha- Why?"

"I'm scoutin' ahead, seein' if this place is alright." Daryl stepped over the leather seat of the chopper and kicked the bike of its stands.

"And you think it's a good idea? Going to a prison?" He looked up at Carol as she clutched her self.

"You got any better ideas? You may not like him, but Rick's the only person who kept us alive. Should count yourself lucky." Before she could reply, Daryl revved the engine of the motorbike and drove out onto the stretch of road ahead nodding his head at the others as he rode past.

It was the first time in a long time he could ride without being weighed down or being chased. It was kinda freeing.

Half an hour passed. The road had become gravel and dirt, and seemed to be leading Daryl back to where he started. Then ahead of the trees and bush, he saw the infirmary towers. He slowed down, taking a good look of the place. Little did he know how damn big it was. The sheer size of the place could home a town of people. There were no walkers in site, just two men resting on a watch tower overlooking the steel entrance gate.

A mile or so back the two cars waited. Within a few minutes Daryl returned whispering to Rick what the situation was as everyone else bit their lips.

"Well alright, you lead the way." Rick said keeping his hands on the wheel.

Daryl mumbled to himself as he stepped back over the bike. He rode off at a slow speed so the cars could keep up and as they approached the prison gates, there were more than just the two men watching them.

"Stop right there!" A booming male voice said. The cars haulted and Daryl braked, stepping off the bike. Rick slowly got out of the car and walked towards the gate and the men now standing on the other side. "What you want? How many of you? Any of you bit?" The man was tall, broad and looked like a prisoner. He had a tear tattooed beneath his eye, a sign of seeing someone die; Rick should have hundreds then.

"We need a place to stay for the night, possibly get some supplies. There's ten of us, and no, none of us are infected…" Rick held his hands up. Daryl kept both hands on his crossbow, but kept it by his side all the same. The tall man talked to the other men close by and nodded in agreement with all of them.

"You'll need to talk to the gov."


	2. Chapter 2

Rick walked alongside the tall man as he walked them into the compound. His name was Grayson. Daryl watched as the other men shut the steel gates behind them, leaving the group's cars and personal belongings in the open. A cool breeze rolled through the open plain they walked across; ahead of them was the outer layer of the prison, a dull brick fort. Daryl watched shadows move slowly across the roof.

"What kind of a place is this?" Rick and Grayson turned around, as Daryl pointed his crossbow at the flat roof of the prison.

"This is the safest place you'll ever find again friend. " Grayson continued walking towards the large iron set doors which looked to be the only direct entrance into the prison. Daryl mumbled incoherently to himself, making Rick turn around with a sharp look. Daryl brushed it off and watched as the rest of the group walked past. Carol raised an eyebrow at him as if to say _I told you so. _He kicked his right foot out, a cloud of dust and gravel swirling in the air like a tornado. He walked on, staring back at one shadow that was hooded and staring right back at him.

The prison was lit up with harsh white lights, enough for anyone to get a migraine within ten minutes of being inside.

"This is the mess hall, we've got nine others, but I'll tell y'all 'bout that later." Grayson maneuvered his way through the stained metal tables. Music was being played throughout the prison through speakers in the corners of the rooms, dating back to the 50s. This wasn't the typical entrance to the prison, so clearly something had gone down in the usual secure strict sector when this was still a prison.

"Where are all the inmates?" Lori asked, keeping two hands on Carl's shoulders as they walked. Grayson looked over his shoulder at the dark haired woman, he smirked.

"All over."

Lori squeezed Carl's shoulders and ushered him forward. Rick went to touch her but she quickly moved past him, throwing him a glare. Carol also glared at him as she walked past behind Lori. Grayson watched with interest. The group huddled together by an unlocked steel gate. Grayson pressed an intercom on the wall and talked quickly to the person on the other side. He smirked then turned back to the group.

"Up to the center tower my friends."

Daryl kept turning around, hearing footsteps on the metal walkways surrounding the mess hall. Again a shadow was staring at him as he looked up to the far left corner. The others were walking out, guided by an armed man who had clearly just come from watch. Grayson stood beside the gate.

"We've got another who fancy themselves a Robin Hood." Grayson smiled. Daryl walked toward him, alert as always.

"What's his name?" Daryl asked a slight hope in his voice that it could be Merle.

"He is a she… Ya comin' redneck?" Grayson held the gate open before going to lock it; Daryl's eyes lowered and he snarled viciously.

"Go to hell son of a bitch." He strode past, running to catch up with the others.

Endless corridors and the smell of stale piss hung in the air. Grayson caught up with Rick at the front and told him only he and one other could talk to the Governor. He decided on Daryl, even though his temper was up at the moment. The rest of the group remained in the glass dome… bang, smack in the middle of the prison; they were being watched by the same two men from the gates at the opening. The stairs were winding up and the walls were pristine white compared to the stained, paint peeled walls of the corridors. Rick approached Herschel and whispered to him so Grayson couldn't hear. The elder man nodded and Rick whistled for Daryl who walked over, ready to ascend to the heavens.

As they walked higher they could eventually see the whole of the compound; rows and rows of cell blocks, watch towers, maintenance rooms and recreational areas. When they eventually got to the top of the great, glass tower they saw a leather desk chair, looking out over the prison. Grayson walked in, holding the door open for the two other men.

"This is them Gov." The chair turned, and a middle aged man sat with his hands held against his mouth. He lowered them, and smiled ever so slightly.

"What're your names?" He said in a coarse, smokers voice.

"I'm Rick, Rick Grimes and this here is Daryl." The Governor nodded and looked both of them over. The two men looked right back; his hair was golden brown, wavy and greying slightly, his eyes were a green/brown in colour, and his face was worn and tired looking. They looked at each other, and then back at him.

"Well hello Rick Grimes and Daryl, what can I do you for?"

"You're in charge here?" Daryl asked, noticing the man had no outstanding attributes about him; he wasn't the tallest, or burliest, hell he didn't even look like a warden.

"Why yes Daryl I am. My brother was the warden of this place, Jacob… he died just a month or so ago," The Governor took a deep breath and held it in for a moment. "I took over after he passed. I look after everyone here."

"How many of you are there?" Rick asked, worried about being outnumbered.

"There are twenty of us day to day; guards, some small timers and a few stranded who came here for salvation."

"No prisoners?" The Governor looked up at Rick.

"Thirty or so, on the mile… we keep them there until their sentence is up. Then they can join us, or go free." Rick and Daryl looked at each other.

"Good a place as any… safer for now." Daryl said to Rick, tucking both hands in his pockets. Rick nodded.

"You're welcome to stay just as long as you want; we'll eventually get you all working and help run the place if that's not too much to ask." Rick smiled ever so slightly, the first Daryl had seen since back at the farm.

"Well alrigh'. Thanks…" The Governor stood; he was small in height, but had broadness about him.

"Philip, Philip Blake." The two men shook hands. Daryl watched Grayson closely as he seemed to grimace. He raised an eyebrow at him. Grayson lost the grimace and replaced it with a smirk.

Once they had descended back down the stairs, Grayson pulled a frequency radio from his pocket and began talking into it. Meanwhile, Rick introduced Philip to the rest of the group. Lori began asking questions before being interrupted by Gray.

"They're meeting us in the mess hall Gov." Philip smiled at him and nodded. Grayson left the group then, leaving Philip to walk them back to the mess hall.

"We have another child too," Philip said to Carl who walked alongside him with Lori. His eyes lit up. "Yeah a little girl, goes by the name Clementine, she'll be helping cook out I expect." Carl smiled and began chatting to the man comfortably.

Daryl walked at the back with Rick, the two men keeping their guards up.

"You trust him?" Daryl asked.

"Not yet, but he seems decent. We're meeting the others now."

As the Governor opened the gate to the mess hall a group of ten men stood there, all with sniper rifles swung around their backs. He laughed.

"They're not so scary once you get to know them." He formally introduced the two men who met them at the gates, Grayson they already knew, and the other seven men who had been guards at the prison. Then two women appeared from one of the wreck rooms nearby, one young, only a teenager and the other clearly related. "This is Maria and Madison; my sister in law and niece." Philip squeezed Maria's shoulder, the mother. She smiled and looked at the group curiously. A large man stepped out from the kitchen, followed by two other men dressed in marine uniform. "Chef and his minions, oh and there's little Clem." A little girl emerged from the kitchen, carrying two chocolate bars; she had dark brown curls atop of her head and big brown pebbles for eyes. Clementine ran up to Philip before spotting Carl, she stepped toward him, holding out one of the chocolate bars. Carl smiled at the smaller girl as did Lori.

"Th-thank you Clementine."

The metal walkway above them rattled as someone came in from the roof. It was the hooded shadow figure from earlier. Daryl watched them like a hawk, his crossbow raised slightly.

"Oh and here's Sam."

She jumped across the railing and down a pole, which landed directly behind Philip. He jumped ever so slightly when she landed on her feet. Clementine ran to her instinctively. Daryl lowered his crossbow as she pulled her hood down. She was tall, slender and much like Clementine had chocolate brown curls down past her shoulder. Her skin was pale and her eyes were grey in colour. She had a scar on her neck which looked like a burn mark.

"This is Samantha, resident Robin Hood." It was then Daryl noticed the quiver of arrows she had hanging off her shoulder. She bent down to pick Clementine up, before looking at Rick.

"Welcome to hell." She said, watching the group carefully.


	3. Chapter 3

A few hours after meeting the crew of the prison and being shown around the main areas of the prison, it was nearing time for a feast. Cook spent extra hours preparing and cooking what might be the survivors' best meal in a long time. Rick spent time with the Governor and Grayson, figuring out sleeping arrangements and future duties of his people. No longer would they live in fear… fear of walkers that is.

Daryl sat in the mess hall, figuring out what this place was. Clementine wandered over to him.

"Hello." She said, in the quietest of voices. Daryl's eyes narrowed as he found himself interested by the little girl.

"Hello yourself," She jumped up on to the steel table he was sitting on and sat next to him, watching his hands as he rubbed them together. "How long you been here?" He asked her. Clementine pondered for a minute, before shrugging.

"Couple months I think, that's what Sam says anyway." Daryl nodded at the little girl before seeing the hooded figure known as Samantha slide down the pole as she did a few hours before. She was wearing an army jacket, big enough for a man twice her size; it had a name sewn on the breast pocket that he couldn't quite make out. She lowered the hood and raised her head slightly when she saw Clem talking to one of the new guys. Worry coated her face. From the looks of it, she trusted no-one.

"See your making friends already chickadee." Sam walked over to Clementine; she smiled at her nickname and held her arms open to be lifted by the woman. Sam picked her up, embracing her in a tight hug. "Why don't you go find that boy, I saw him in the wreck room." Clementine nodded into her shoulder before jumping down from her grip and skipping off towards the kitchens.

Daryl looked through darkened eyes at the woman in front of him. She lay down her quiver of arrows and a small, but strong looking bow. When the hell was the chick from? The 1600s? She jumped up onto the table opposite Daryl and placed her hands together, scrunching them into a tight ball. She tilted her head, looking him up and down. Daryl frowned.

"Take a photo, it'll last longer."

"You remind me of a guy down in the cells," She said, looking into his eyes. Sam paused and pursed her lips together. "Why are you here?"

"Why are you here?" He repeated, glaring into the grey, tired eyes of the woman in front of him. She smirked, her lips twinging upward. He was sharp, defensive. She liked that.

"Keeping the little one safe."

"She your daughter?" He asked, not knowing why he inquired suddenly. Samantha laughed, a wad of brown curls falling over her face.

"Niece." Daryl nodded, but kept his eyes locked on to hers.

"Rick, the leader of the group insisted we find somewhere to stay for a while; need the women to learn how to use a gun and that." Sam's eyes looked upward for a minute, then quickly to the side. She jumped up, grabbing her bow and arrows. She ran towards the iron door that led out to the entrance. Daryl watched her, and then soon followed, picking his crossbow up. He hadn't heard anything, what the hell was this woman?

As he walked out into the evening air, Sam was stood stiffly, staring at the gates and watchtower. She stood perfectly still. She shifted her tracks, running towards the East side of the prison, a place that was forbidden for anyone but the Governor and the guards to enter. Daryl followed her, stopping at her side where she stared further along the gravel at a walker who was dressed in guard uniform. He was a good fifty meters or so away. She pulled an arrow from the quiver around her back and slotted it into the bow at complete ease. She inhaled and released the arrow, which flew at tremendous speed and stopped as it penetrated the walker's skull. He fell backwards.

"How the hell did you hear him?" Daryl said, glaring at her. Sam looked at him through the curls of her hair. She pulled out an earphone which was connected to a radio similar to Grayson's.

"Connected to that tower up there, broadcasts all day and night, can hear anything between the prison walls and the fence." Daryl looked towards the darkening sky, a radio tower flashed furiously.

"Where'd he come from?"

Samantha began walking back towards the iron doors, this time taking it slow. Daryl turned and looked at her, noticing she chose to ignore him. She stopped. "Not supposed to be here, best get back."

"Why didn't one of your guards take the son o'bitch out?" He walked towards her, clearly angered by the lack of knowledge he had of his surroundings.

"You ask a lot of questions," Sam paused and pulled the other earphone out. She held it up for him. He grabbed it and listened; a chime from inside, ringing thrice. "Dinner time." She said, pulling the earphone out of his ear. She continued walking, this time Daryl walked alongside her, trying to figure her out. He noticed her repeatedly looking down at his crossbow. They stayed silent until they reached the mess hall. Clementine was standing on one of the table's trying to reach something Madison had in her hand.

"Give it back!" The little girl screamed. The teenager, who dressed like a drop out of Good Charlotte, was holding a photo up above her head. Daryl watched Samantha go to interfere; he grabbed her arm gently and shook his head.

"Wait." He said. Sam watched Clementine as she grew redder and redder. Madison was taunting the little girl, for no reason other than fun. Daryl recognised a fury in Clementine that he used to have as a child. When it came to bullies, he would unleash hell. Sam wriggled out of Daryl's grip and stepped forward, ready to grab Madison and make her apologise. Daryl moved away, around the outer edge of the tables, he watched the teenager tease the little girl more and more.

"Why should I? Your mommy and daddy have gone now, and soon your precious Sam will be too." Madison went to tear the photo up. Clem roared. She jumped onto Madison and the two fell back onto the stone floor. The little girl grabbed onto her hair and pulled and pulled. "GET OFF OF ME!" Madison shouted. Clementine grabbed the photo from the older girl's hand and jumped off, running into a solid frame.

The Governor looked down at the little girl who had tears running down her rosy cheeks. He raised an eyebrow, and then his gaze fell on Madison, his niece. "What's going on here?" Philip then looked to see Daryl in the corner, his arms placed on the table, he stared up at him. Nearer was Samantha, glaring at the Governor. He bent down to look at Clementine. "What happened?" The girl sniffled repeatedly, her eyes welling with tears.

"Maddie tried to rip up mommy and daddy." She said, choking on her words. Madison grunted and stormed over to her uncle.

"It's a misunderstanding…"

"No range practice for two weeks." He said bluntly, wrapping his arms around Clementine as she sobbed.

"WHAT? That is ridiculous- she's not even your family!" The Governor threw his niece a look that could kill. The guards came in from the wreck room, as did Rick and the other survivors. Daryl nodded at Rick who looked at him curiously.

"Sorry everyone, know how teenagers are," Everyone stood awkwardly as Madison stormed off, pushing her mother out the way as she went. Cook appeared with his two helpers and grinned. The Governor grinned right back, "Dinner is served ladies and gentlemen. Please-" He motioned for everyone to sit at the central steel tables. Clementine ran back toward Samantha and squeezed her hand tightly. Daryl watched as the little girl looked at him, tears still falling down those beautiful rosy cheeks of hers. He smiled at her and moved to sit with everyone else. Sam sat Clementine next to herself and Grayson. Daryl sat opposite her and next to Carol who whispered into his ear.

"Roast beef, 'taters and we gots some apple pie for puddin' boss." Cook was a large black Texan man. He had tattoos and was easily six foot five, the same height as Grayson. He also seemed simple minded, not aware of much going on outside of this place. He settled the two trays of roast beef down in front of the Governor who closed his eyes to inhale the smell of the meat.

"What a treat, what a treat cook!" The Governor stood and ushered the two other men to pour out red wine for the entire group. "Please join me in raising a toast to our new friends, whom we are so honoured to have with us tonight." Sam shook her head at one of the men going to pour into her glass; he apologised and grabbed a beer from a table nearby, placing it in front of her. She winked at him before he blushed and ran to continue pouring. "To the living." Philip toasted and a chorus of people repeated. Daryl and Sam both noticed neither one said it and glared at each other across the table. "Well folks enjoy! And once dinner is finished, we have a bunch of activities available for all; ladies you might be interested in the newly finished cards and wine room in the next mess hall along, and fellas there's plenty of whiskey and cigars in the smoking room nearby." Sam took a long swig of beer and frowned at the Governor's words before leaning down to Clementine, encouraging the little girl to eat. Daryl knew something was up, he just couldn't figure out what.


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner was soon over, with the survivors full of meat and potatoes and red wine. Carol and Lori took Carl to bed, and soon were asleep themselves. As were the Greene family and Glenn. Rick stayed close the Governor, trying to figure him out and see if his intentions were good. They withdrew to an old fashioned smoking room, with books and brandy bottles everywhere. Surely it wasn't like this before? Once the clock struck ten, Rick decided to call it a night and head off back to the cells with T-Dog. The Governor at this point pulled Grayson aside, his eyes darkening as he spoke.

"Is she still fighting?" He said sternly. Grayson looked down at the Governor, who was almost a foot smaller than himself. He nodded, but wished he hadn't.

Cook came past with Clementine fast asleep on his shoulder. "I'll take her to bed; you look af-after Samantha." Grayson frowned at Cook who was at the same height if not taller than him. He shortly nodded and proceeded to walk the other way.

Daryl sat in the main mess hall, not feeling particularly tired. He had a couple of beers sitting next to him; cold and unopened. He watched as Cook appeared, carrying a small body that could only be Clementine. He nodded at him, a sign of approval from the likes of Daryl. Cook smiled and walked over, being careful not to bang into anything or make a noise. "If ya ain't tired, go find Grayson in the East wing." Daryl raised an eyebrow, and stared past the solid frame towards the iron gate.

"Thought that was off-limits?" Daryl asked, bringing his eyes back to Cook's. He laughed, deep from his lungs.

"He he, naw… go find him."

Daryl didn't need asking twice. Hell, they might even be dealing poker. He walked towards the glass dome at the center of the prison and headed East into unfamiliar territory. Voices soon echoed the hallways, and he found himself wondering what he was letting himself in for. He saw the shaggy hair of Grayson standing by the gymnasium, looking into the glass panes. He turned quickly once he heard footsteps.

"Cook said come an' find you." Grayson rolled his eyes; worsening Daryl's opinion of him. He tried to look past the tall frame into the gymnasium where it was clear more people than he had met were in there.

"Don't go tellin' your friends now redneck." Grayson pushed open the gymnasium door, allowing Daryl to enter. He didn't know what to expect; a basketball game, soccer maybe? Anything but what his eyes saw.

A large steel cage was set up in the center of the gymnasium, and rows of seats surrounded it. Thirty prisoners my ass. There were at least a hundred here, all shouting at the cage in the middle of the gym. Daryl felt Grayson walk behind him. He turned his head, and looked up at the large fella. "What the hell is this place?" Grayson smirked.

"This is where the real fun happens friend. We bet, take bets from the prisoners… if they win, they get cigarettes, alcohol, and stuff like that. If we win, same deal." Daryl looked up to see the Governor watching in a booth that overlooked the gym. He had a cigar lit and dipped the burning amber ash on to the prisoners below.

"Next up, we've got Chester Wade," The prisoners suddenly started booing loudly, and Daryl watched as a middle aged man entered the cage; he was bearded and wearing sunglasses. "Notorious rapist in the state of Georgia, and wait for it… he's up against one of our saviors' gentlemen." Daryl didn't know what to think, how to feel about all this. His head blurred, yet he wanted to watch. It was cage fighting; two men beating the shit outta each other for no reason other than entertainment and a pack of smokes or two.

"What do the fighters bet?" He asked, finding himself more interested. Grayson smirked again, dimples etching into his cheeks.

"Chester is betting one night with his opponent in one of the luxury cells…"

"What the-"

Daryl stopped and watched as the prisoners stood up, all for the same reason.

"And his opponent gentlemen, our resident Robin Hood, Samantha." She jumped up into the cage, removing her leather jacket; she had a lit cigarette in between her teeth. His eyes widened, so far he thought they may just pop out from his skull. He went to lunge forward before Grayson pulled him back. The Governor, up in the heavens watched with interest.

"Your lettin' a woman fight that monster? The fuck is wrong with you people?" He shouted it so everyone could hear in the back rows. The prisoners told him to shut up before a bell was rung. Red swarmed his skin like a rash and he felt himself shaking within Grayson's grip.

"What the hell is she betting then? Her life?" He shook Grayson off of him and began pacing the aisle behind the last row.

"Actually, she's wantin' half the guns in the armory. Governor's bet." Daryl glared at him then back at the cage. "Just watch friend."

Sam jumped up and down on the spot. Duct tape wrapped tightly around her knuckles. The air was thick was cigarette smoke. She pulled the cancer stick from her mouth and threw it to the ground. Chester bowed to her and watched as she tied her curls tight in a bun. He licked his lips, sucking at the taste of the air as she moved. She blinked rapidly before the bell rung and she saw Chester running towards her. He gripped her by the throat, attempting to bite her pale neck as he grasped her. She kicked his foot out from under him, making him fall to the blue gym mats below. She shook it off, jumping up and down on the spot again. As he charged toward her this time, she clenched her right fist tightly and swung it into the left side of his jaw. He fell back, collapsing once more on the blue mats. She began kicking, until he grabbed her foot, pulling her down to him. He pinned both her wrists down and licked one side of her face. She spat in on him. He slapped her sharply, grazing her with a ring placed on his middle finger. As he attempted to lick her a second time, she raised her head, connecting their foreheads together. Once back on her feet she kicked him repeatedly in the balls, cursing as she did. The prisoners cheered. He held his hand up. Surrender.

She walked away, kicking the cage as she left. The Governor smiled and stood from his throne, he walked out into one of the cleaner corridors, and down three flights of stairs. Once down, Sam walked towards him. She stopped and groaned, turning around.

"Samantha, you sure know how to put on a good show." He said, running after her. She stopped, resisting all urges to turn around and break his nose. She ached, her lip was bleeding and all she wanted was to snuggle next to Clementine and listen to her breathing. It was the most soothing sound. The Governor rested a hand on her shoulder, indicating her to stop. She did. She turned, looking over her shoulder. "How about you bunk in my dorm tonight?" His smile was weary and his teeth were yellow with tobacco stains.

"I'd rather not. Want to check on Clem." She said without thinking. He gripped her harder, sharp nails digging into her collar bone.

"Next time you might not be so lucky." He let go of her, and walked away, calling for one of the guards as he walked. She was on thin ice as it was, this was making things worse. She slid down the wall and felt herself droop with exhaustion.

"Sam?" She opened her eyes barely to see Grayson bending down in front of her. He was soon pushed out of the way by Daryl, who looked her over and saw her lip was bleeding. She jumped, realizing he had seen everything.

"Shit." Sam scrambled to her feet, almost falling back down as the adrenaline went to her head. Daryl stared at her through tired, confused eyes. She hid her face.

"You said she could hold her own? Look at her! You people are sick." Daryl squared up to Grayson, who pushed him back lightly.

"Can't stop her from fightin' friend. Plus, she now owns half the armory." Samantha smirked at this and looked up at Gray, then to Daryl.

"You shouldn't have seen that." Grayson left the two of them alone, hearing something on the radio. Daryl paced up and down in front of her.

"You tryna get yourself killed lady? Or you just too stupid to know what yer doin'?" His voice was harsh, angry. She nodded, not particularly caring what he thought. Daryl stopped in front of her. He felt like gripping her shoulders, telling her to snap outta this. She had a kid to think about for Christ sake. "Don't feel like talkin' huh?" She stared underneath her eyebrows up at him and smirked.

"You have no clue about me double D, quit wastin' your time."


End file.
